


Massage Therapy

by Severina



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Community: 25fluffyfics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-19
Updated: 2008-10-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 11:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"At the risk of playing into those schoolboy fantasies of yours," he said, looking from Brian to the cat, "he followed me home.  Can I keep him?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Massage Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> Post Season Five  
> Written for LJ's 25FluffyFics community  
> Prompt 11: Massage

Justin very nearly made it inside unscathed.

He closed the door quietly and engaged the lock, then dropped his portfolio next to the oak table, wincing when it hit the floor with a thump that seemed to echo in the foyer. He looped the plastic bag of supplies on to his arm, wishing as it crinkled that the store had a green bag option. And he'd taken two or three steps toward the stairs and was actually breathing easier when Brian cleared his throat.

Justin froze.

"What," Brian said from behind him, "is that?"

Justin mouthed something like might have been 'shit' to the little animal tucked precariously under his arm. The cat -- dirty and bedraggled and toothpick skinny -- seemed to return the look sympathetically. Justin took a deep breath. Then he turned to face Brian.

"At the risk of playing into those schoolboy fantasies of yours," he said, looking from Brian to the cat, "he followed me home. Can I keep him?"

"I don't need the fantasies. I already had the naughty schoolboy," Brian retorted. "And no."

"It was a rhetorical question."

"We're not having a cat," Brian said emphatically.

"But--"

"It's probably someone's pet," Brian said. Justin couldn't help but notice that he refused to look at the cat nestled in his arms. "You're very likely stealing some poor child's faithful companion."

"Is this child sick and an orphan, too?"

Brian scowled.

"Look at him!" Justin said. "He doesn't have a collar, and he's practically starved. No way this cat has a home. AND he nearly got creamed trying to cross the road out there! This whole area is a deathtrap." Justin shook his head in disgust. "I'm writing a letter to the proper authorities."

"I'm sure that will make the world of difference."

"At least it's something," Justin said. He rubbed the cat's chin absently, and preened when the animal stretched and purred. "Right after I get this little guy cleaned up."

"We're not--"

"Yes," Justin said firmly, "we are."

Justin turned on his heels and headed up the stairs, ducking in to the second floor guest bathroom. Behind him, he could hear Brian swear under his breath before footsteps followed in his wake. He already had the water running in the tub and was reading the instructions on the cat shampoo by the time Brian pushed open the door.

"Justin--"

"Shut the door! You're going to let the cat out."

"That would be the point."

Justin shot him a look.

Brian shut the bathroom door. Crossed his arms at his chest. And ignored the grubby little animal sniffing at his bare feet and rubbing his furry body all over his jeans.

Justin leaned down to turn off the running water. He tested the temperature. Fiddled with the flip top lid on the noxious green shampoo bottle. "Look," he said finally, meeting Brian's eyes, "I understand your reticence. You've never had a pet."

"And I don't want one now," Brian said evenly.

"Just give me five reasons why a cat is not the perfect pet for us."

"Fine," Brian agreed easily. "One, it will destroy the furniture."

"Which is why we'll get him de-clawed and he can be an indoor cat."

"Two," Brian said, stretching out a finger, "cat fur. I will not have that thing's loose hair getting in my food and covering my furniture, never mind my clothes."

Justin rolled his eyes. God forbid anything should come between Brian and his Armani. "I'll make sure to brush him every day," Justin promised. "And he'll be expressly banned from the clothes closets."

Brian shook his head, and held out a third finger. "Fur balls."

"We just went over fur!"

"Not fur. Fur BALLS. Disgusting vomitous--"

"Yeah, I got it," Justin said, making a face. "And I might even give you that one. Except," he smiled triumphantly, "the clerk at the store that I stopped at told me there's some maple syrup stuff that you can give a cat if they have a problem with… digesting their own fur. Breaks up the fur balls before they become fur balls."

"Four," Brian said, "we're never home. A pet needs someone to take care of it." Brian looked at Justin smugly, clearly thinking he'd outsmarted him on this fourth point.

"Actually," Justin said, "cats are incredibly self-sufficient. They don't need to be let outside, and you only need to fill their bowls once a day. You can even leave extra food out if you're going to be away, because cats won't pig out on their food like dogs will. Also, I'm sure Em would stop by to take care of him if we're out of town."

Brian gritted his teeth. "Five," he said sharply. "Fleas."

"Yeah," Justin nodded, with a sad look at the skinny little animal. "That's a problem. He's been living outside, so I'm sure he's got them. But that's why I doubled back to that Super Pet off the highway and picked up this flea shampoo, along with his food and stuff."

"You think it has fleas?"

"Well--"

Brian blanched. "You were driving my car."

"And I'll have the interior cleaned first thing tomorrow morning," Justin promised smoothly.

The cat looked up at him and meowed pitifully.

"I couldn't just leave him out there, Brian."

"I know," Brian said evenly. "But I thought, as your partner, I'd have some say in the matter."

"You do," Justin said. He smiled, trying for levity. "You can name him."

Brian leaned back against the closed door and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He paid no attention to the cat winding his way around his legs.

Justin crossed the room to rest his palms on Brian's chest. "You really don't want us to keep him?"

"I gave you your five reasons, Justin."

Justin sighed. "Yeah," he said, "you did."

"We haven't even gone over the smell of the litter, or the cost of food and vet bills, or--"

"I get it," Justin said. He raised himself up to press a kiss to Brian's lips, then bent down to scoop up the scruffy little cat. "And if you feel that strongly, I understand."

He rubbed at the animal's ears, and the cat leaned in to him affectionately. "I'll clean him up," Justin continued, "and then I'll put an ad in the paper. At the very least I want to find him a good home. He'll just be here for a couple of days. Okay?"

Brian nodded. "I can live with that."

As Justin turned away with the cat toward the tub, Brian hesitated. "Do you want some help with that?"

Justin shook his head.

Brian shut the door quietly on the way out.

* * *

Freshly bathed and brushed, the cat -- which Justin had taken to calling Leo, if only in his head -- looked like a new feline. Once the dirty fur was washed, what had appeared to be a light brown cat turned in to a beautiful silver tabby with burnished orange highlights. And once Justin spent another twenty minutes brushing out the tangles of hair, the cat's fur was sleek and shiny. He was still skinny as hell, but Justin figured a few days worth of good food would work wonders.

He carried the purring animal downstairs, finding Brian sprawled out on the sofa in the lounge watching a movie. He turned down the volume when he saw Justin in the archway.

"All done?"

"Yeah," Justin said. He relaxed his grip and let the cat leap nimbly from his arms, watching as the animal shook his head, sniffed the air, and took a few tentative steps toward the sofa. "I'm going to let him have the run of the place, if that's all right with you. Except for the bedroom, of course."

"Of course."

"And I'm going to type up an ad for tomorrow's newspaper, and then I'll take his photo," Justin continued. "Someone's sure to want him when they see how gorgeous he is."

"Exactly what I thought seven years ago when I saw you standing under that streetlight."

Justin smiled wanly.

Brian pressed his lips together. "Do you want help with the copy?"

"No, I've got it," Justin said. "I'm going to work on it upstairs. I just want to make sure it's worded properly. And I want to screen all the applicants."

"It's a cat, Sunshine, not a condo."

Justin scowled. "Still. I want him to go to a good home."

"I know," Brian said softly.

"Okay. Well." Justin scanned around the room, finding Leo wandering around by the pool table. Brian either didn't notice, or didn't care. "I'm gonna get to it. See you later."

Brian turned the volume back up, and settled back down on the sofa. "Later."

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Justin had what he thought was a good first draft. It occurred to him as he printed it out to show Brian that he'd often spent less time writing essays for his Art History classes than he had writing a Free To Good Home notice for the paper. But then, his Art History grades had certainly reflected that little fact as well.

Shaking his head, Justin folded up the draft and tucked it in his jeans pocket, then scooped up the plastic bag of supplies he'd left on the bathroom floor and padded downstairs where he detoured to the kitchen. He'd purchased a set of crystal dishes for the cat's food and water at Super Pet -- not exactly the type of things you could fill with a days worth of food like he'd mentioned to Brian, but he'd thought the material and design would please his more style conscious partner. Now, it didn't really matter.

Justin filled the first bowl with the premium cat food he'd picked up, and the second with some spring water from the fridge. Then he unfolded the ad and made his way to the lounge at the back of the house.

"Bria--" Justin stopped, mouth open.

Brian still lay sprawled on the sofa, but now the television's screen was blue and the DVD light was blinking unnoticed. Brian's eyes were closed. And the cat -- Leo, Justin smiled, he was definitely a Leo -- was curled on Brian's stomach, his tiny paws kneading at Brian's chest. Brian's hand absently petted a trail down Leo's back, subtly encouraging the kitty massage.

Justin backed slowly out of the room.

He folded the Free To Good Home notice and tucked it back in his pocket. He didn't want to get his hopes up, but he really didn't think he'd be needing it after all.


End file.
